


Phoebe's Backfire (After Season 1, Episode 12 "Fire") The X-Files

by standardprocedure



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fire, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Intimacy, Love, POV Fox Mulder, Parallel Universes, Partners to Lovers, Romance, Season1, Secrets, Sexual Content, Time Travel, missingtime, seasonepisode12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 16:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18528985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standardprocedure/pseuds/standardprocedure
Summary: Agent Mulder's devilish ex Phoebe Green targets Scully for one last hurt. Mulder is forced to confront his muted emotions and explore just how much Scully has grown on him. Emphasis on friendship, partnership, and past hurt is examined in a whimsical way. I tend to write as I wish the world to be, I hope you enjoy the story. This includes nods to the scene of Lost Time in the Pilot and therefore takes advantage of time bending and different realities.MSR. ROMANCE. ADULT CONTENT. SWEET.





	Phoebe's Backfire (After Season 1, Episode 12 "Fire") The X-Files

**Author's Note:**

  * For [You](https://archiveofourown.org/users/You/gifts).



> BACKFIRE
> 
> Set after “FIRE”, Episode Twelve, Season 1
> 
> Phoebe Green, former heartache of Mulder’s, strikes another match to burn Scully.
> 
> He confronts his feelings of his new partner, the girl he lost time with.

 

 

**FRIDAY. MULDER:**

 

She’d run out of our office like an embarrassed schoolgirl. I wonder if I said anything wrong, or forgot something. Scully’s planner left abandoned on the floor, the chilling calligraphy that can only be Phoebe’s on an open envelope.

 

The letter, set to the key of smothering any confidence Scully has in herself or me, scorching lies.

 

_“He always bangs his females. I assume there is an issue. We are far different, you’ll be a big girl someday.”_

 

That condescending filthy bitch. The lies. 

 

Yeah, Phoebe had me at one time, my mind almost bleached white from her destruction. I push to scan the rest, seeing small smears in the red ink. Had Scully cried?

 

Anger tells me to phone Phoebe and yell until her teeth shake. Dammit, Scully needs me, _and this could ruin everything that keeps me breathing._

 

I throw up a few prayers to Mary. Scully believes in her, maybe the Mother will help me fix this.

 

Calling Scully a few times, tape recorder each time. I know she's home. I fumble with a little story that my air conditioner is flooded and I need a dry place to land.

She deserves a heads up, I imagine the last thing she wants is a guest.

 

F-u-c-k. That sweet and strong girl I lost time with, her wet hair and free smile a favorite memory of mine. 

 

 ** _“You cherish her,”_** my heart speaks after being gagged for so long.

 

 _Cherish_ her, protect her, possessive in some ways. I don't want her heartbroken by some Dirtbag. If I can keep my hands off her, I expect who has her to not be the male version of Phoebe.

 

I want her happy. That makes me happy, one of the few motivations silently driving me.

 

She's been on these lunch dates with Ned from IT, _who always orders the chicken salad_. She looks unhappy and bored but keeps showing up for him. The visual of chicken salad coated Ned soothing her, being over her body fuels a Caveman instinct in me.

 

On autopilot, somehow I've picked up 2 Coke Floats for us-no flowers. Need something safe. Something comforting.

 

She answers, her eyes still betraying her-showing off the hurt. The makeup can only cover the skin, she shakes slightly and invites me in.

 

I can't concentrate on what I'm saying. She's sipping her Coke Float.

 

“Are you okay?” Her hand waving me sober.

 

“The letter. I saw it.”

 

Gloom and blushed cheeks.

 

Her mouth opens, pondering if she should lie or not. “She's right. I'm not like her, Mulder.”

 

“Thank God for that. I'd rather work with Ned than ever see her again. I apologize. That venom is not true. You're exceptional to me."

 

“You don't get it. She has the upper hand."

  
  
"Scully, she lied. Just enough trash to mix in. She wanted to burn you. that hurts me more than all the other shit she's done."

  
  
The Coke Float finished, a tear skips passing Scully's reservations.

 

“You have no idea how much I cherish you. I want you to be happy. The one truth is that _she's not you.”_

 

I've lived such a different life. From you, from her.” She tugs at her cross. " My guess she sensed it.  
  


"I don't ask for who I want. Like one time with you. Phoebe was practically laying you in front of me."

 

Her voice has lowered with each word. I tuck her in my arms. “Is this why you are not giving up on chicken salad Ned? Cause I am really tired of him."

 

She laughs a little, "you noticed?"  
  
  
"Betcha the chickens notice."

 

 

My lips encounter hers, “I'm sorry I let you down.” I kiss down her neck. “I cherish you, that's why I've respected you. You are the desire of any man. She sensed you care. I tell ya she'd never take a bullet for me. She'd pull the trigger.”

 

That hopeful smile beams. “I have had experiences, not with guys. Relationships."

 

“Same here.” Getting her to her bed, stroking her skin. She shines vulnerability, where I have only seen strength. 

  
"It's your crazy self I trust. I've trusted you since we lost time. Don't get all cocky on me now."

  
  
The scales fall off my emotions, I can practically feel them. I’m stubborn. She’s stubborn. We both detest pain so much, we’d rather deny than try.

 

When my soul fucking opens, it’s a flood. I never wanted to make love again, but maybe it was never loved I had.

 

For Scully, I'll give her the rest of me into her healing hands. Just once.

 

"I can, right now. If you want. If you're ready."

 

She shakes her head a slow yes. "While you're here."

 

Be easy. Slow. Simmer. I lay on my side, not ready. This needs plenty of friendship.

 

“You’re not like them, Dana. I want you happier more than myself, store that in your heart. They thought they punished me with a Spy. maybe you’ll get what I’m saying, someday."

  
  
“Truly a bad spy.”

I see who lives behind her disciplined life. Did I refuse to see this? Her smile shows me her openness.

  
  
“Maybe to kind. Definitely to kind on me.”

 

She relaxes next to me, and I feel the wave about to hit and crash. I know that look, I've seen it before. Handle this. A beat of her past memory slips to my mind.

 

I can handle this. She's been hurt. That's what I've avoided seeing.

 

"You were hurt." Now, this makes sense. 

 

“I'm ready to move on. Go forward. I didn't tell the Bureau.” 

 

Shit. She’s afraid admitting her trauma will cost her professionally. I wouldn't doubt it. "You know I won't betray you."

 

Holding her forever long, her auburn hair framing her impossible pout.

 

Simple. Sweet. We flow until holding out anymore will crash the rhythm. I purposely keep our shirts on. This is friendship, partners- a class of our own.

 

Her hands squeeze mine, tighten and release. I kicked my boxers somewhere to the floor. I lay between her, softly over her.

 

“Dana Katherine Scully,” I whisper as we align. I repeat her name, entering her. A temple I don't deserve, her generosity pours forth.

 

I begin slow, even if it's just for my sanity. My body gives in, fully encouraged. The stretch, her grasp.

 

“I'm getting anxious waiting, Mulder.”

 

Cheek to cheek, my hands under her, the inevitable mercy of connection.

 

Connected. My wish to fully be consumed in her body, her spirit.

 

“I'm excited,” her smile erupts, “let's do this.”

 

“You're excited, huh? You gonna write a report? Debunk me?"

 

“You're cute when you're paranoid. Batter up.”

 

“You're bluffing.” I take the chance of her laughing to press halfway into her. I wait for her body to relax.  
  
  
"Mulder! Hello, I never went all the way.”

 

Nice move, jerk. Can't take that back.

 

“I didn't think of that. I apologize.”

 

"Careful what I wish for." Silence, our quiet.

 

I stay deep inside her. "You're quite the romantic." She smiles, her grasp so personal. 

 

“Call me what you want.” I shiver inside her, feeling her aura mix with mine. Selfishly I wish my mark to always be connected in her, and her to me.

No matter what happens.

 

“Now I'm getting emotional,” her cue breaks into me. Those blue eyes. God, how do I let her go back to this dangerous planet?"

 

Our kisses last until our tired eyes grasp sleep. I've filled her. All is right in my world, our world.

 

We better forget this, it's not our time.

 

_Which means there will be a time._

 

 

 

**Monday Morning**

 

Scully skips in, not knocking. She doesn't have to knock, but that door can't handle much enthusiasm.

 

She holds a bag over me. “Got bagels, real cream cheese. A whole weekend without being called in? You deserve a treat.”

 

“You'll need a knife unless we spread these bagels with our fingers. "

 

“Be right back.” She storms upstairs.

 

“Good luck getting anything sharp down here.”

 

She's a trip.

 

I notice the unmistakable calligraphy on an envelope addressed to Scully stuck under my shoe. Thank God, it's still sealed. My loafer has already made its mark.

 

To the paper shredder, it goes. Bye, Phoebe.

 

The sound of her written words being crushed brings a warm ambiance to this dusty place.

Today, is a good day.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 


End file.
